Things are not perfectly okay. I wish I could tell whether it’s my fault or Kelsey’s. I can’t decide whether to feel guilty or not. Daddy sticks up for Kelsey, of course. I mean, he sort of keeps explaining her to me. I listen too. I want her explained. But the things he explains never seem exactly the same things I’m bothered about. Oh, well, quit talking about it. Daddy’s gone until tomorrow evening. He had to go down to Klamath Falls to do something for that big office down there where he installed all their computers a couple of years ago. They’re always having problems and yelling for help. If they’d only bought better systems they wouldn’t have so much trouble, and neither would he, but they insisted on these el-cheapo printers and software so what can you expect? I tell Daddy he ought to take a couple of weekdays off to make up for working weekends, but he’ll never do that. And if you’re a one-man business you can’t send anybody in your place. I used to like it when he had to drive to some other town on the weekend, because he always took me with him—after Margo died, I mean.
